#bloodletting
To be knelt in a shower
Watching crimson mix with water
Some good ol’ fashioned
Pain drain
Bloodletting
How delicious
What is it about a cleansing ritual
That brings
Soot to surface
It’s scar tissue
Meets fresh wounds
Amidst the carnage
A kernel of truth
Cartography
How scrumptious
What is it about toweling off
That removes
Less than we thought
It’s whispered words
Meets silent screams
All this chaos
What does it mean
Decryption
How cathartic
What is it about slipping into jeans
That tucks away the secrets
Folds up the mental maps
Slurps the blood from the floor
And masks us up
For the world to adore
///
“How was your weekend?”
(wait, what’s my line?)
Plasma
A flushed cheek
“Oh…it was fine”
smiles
Merely existing
How divine
///
Aug 25, 2022
Aug 25, 2022 at 11:10 AM UTC
there is a cold echo of time in the photographs
the clustered figures in uniform with haunted eyes
they each had a gas mask and a gun
could have been alive this very moment
with such familiar features...a father....brother...son
a hundred years ago they began yet another war
another bloodletting for
a game of brinksmanship of the powers that be
thousands of young men littered on a field
died in a gas attack is the simple phrase beneath
you can almost feel the concussion of the shells landing
hear the wiz of the bullets as the past so near at hand
these young men gas masks in hand
looking into the cameras lens with such horror
things too terrible to speak of in their eyes
father....brother...son
a hundred years later
the papers are filled with pictures
of shells landing in the gaza
armed men clustered round a
jet airliners wreckage in the ukraine
children running from a burning village in africa
we have learned nothing
father....brother...son
i am sorry we have all failed you
failed to cease all this useless warring
all this bloodletting
father....brother....son
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
Part I. Tragedy of the Heart
She's found in the gardens
outside of his castle of
sorrow & history of death.
With the Grimmore locked
in her arms. she had hoped
to end the centuries old curse
placed upon herself.
She swore to Hecate in fragments
of blood. For a chance for
something sought by every mortal,
Immortality.
From wishes to eternity, she
watches the ones she cares
for wither and are placed
6ft under the soft brown earth.
For her consequence her heart
breaks piece by piece as the
night fall, falls upon her.
Eternity of heart break
and hearts where meant to shatter.
Part II. Thirteenth Winter
A blanket of snow covered the land,
the ****** cried her tears to shed
her pains of the thirteenth winter.
The church is gone, no revelations
could help her feel safe again. The
sun is only a distant memory, that
the books told her of the past.
It's only darkness now and the stars
don't shine, the wolves are howling
and she is praying for an escape from
this frozen nightmare.
The Grimmore, on the ground she's reading
the spells out loud hoping to end the
thirteenth winter's reign. There is no more faith
as the spell fails, she's calling for The Fire.
The Fire abandons her and all
hope is lost. Abandon her hope because it
surely has abandoned her and she suffers
this as the winter reigns supreme.
III. Redemption
Cry out to Heavens so that The Fire can hear her.
Nothing will ever be the same as she slowly slips away
into the Hell that she made from the bargain with Hecate.
Erase this, erase everything go in time before immortality
seemed so sublime. Erase the blood she shed before
the reign of winter destroyed everything that she loved.
The world is being engulfed because of selfishness of
not wanting to face what she fears, Death.
The Grimmore
cannot save her now. She doesn’t remember the feeling
of the sun beating down on her face.
This is the end of her nightmare, so start dreaming of
a better. She will bleed for another away out of this nightmare.
Everything comes at a price, she takes the blade and pierces
heart. Her nightmare is over and redemption has been given.
She closes her eyes to rest and slips away into Summerland
as the snow covers her body. Death finally embraced her
with opening arms.
Eternity came and went, the curse has been ended.
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 11:10 AM UTC
You're nothing
but a ***** flea to me -
Biting my ankles,
And gnawing at my feet
You refuse my pleas to cease
They itch -
Oh so uncomfortably
I scratch until they bleed
The bites are gone now,
But my skin -
Uneven, blotched in tone -
Bear scars of memories
Long since past
And so I cover them fast
Lest I dwell on the contrast
They make my tattoos
Look a little ugly sometimes
Maybe I'll just cover them
With more art -
Turn something stark
Into something lark
How about all bite,
AND all bark?
Jul 21, 2025
Jul 21, 2025 at 3:25 AM UTC